


Darkness and Light

by Ajgrey9647



Category: Mighty Morphin Power Rangers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-02 12:05:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13317726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ajgrey9647/pseuds/Ajgrey9647
Summary: What's behind Green Ranger's obsession and hatred of Jason?





	1. Chapter 1

Sunlight filtered warmly through the air; the only sound was the distant ticking of a clock somewhere in the house. White gloved fingertips gingerly traced a trail along the dark wooden dresser. His eyes lingered over object situated on its polished top. Various medals, trophies, and photographs in gold frames glinted in the slanted light.

He strolled through the room, in no particular hurry; he knew no one was home to interrupt him. In fact, he felt a certain sense of satisfaction to be here without the other teen's knowledge. Tommy smirked under the emerald helmet.

Arrogant son of a bitch, he grinned to himself.

Tommy couldn't help but touch every object that caught his attention. In his mind, it was important to learn as much as he could about the person he was up against. And the way, the Red Ranger challenged him? It still rankled even though he'd had the delight of hooking his fists in the bastard's gut and back handing him across the face.

His boots barely made a whisper on soft beige carpet as he approached Jason's closet. Reaching out, he opened the door in a crisp fluid movement to find what treasure lingered inside. The overwhelming scent almost knocked him back and his chest knotted tightly; he griped the knob tightly in a paroxysm of rage.

Red Ranger!

He snarled, his lip curling up like an angry, frothing dog. The smell was intoxicating. Moving closer to the clothes neatly hanging in a red row, he drew a deep inhalation to fill his lungs. Psychotic, disjointed, and violent images swarmed in his mind; they squirmed over and around each other like wasps. He heard broken, icy laughter and realized it was his own. Tommy stood in the doorway doubled over and fists clenched by the side of his head as he giggled maniacally.

Focus, Green Ranger. Focus. Get your shit together.

Mustering up his will power, he closed the door and immediately the sensation plummeted from a fever pitch to a fiery throb he tried to ignore. Shaking slightly, Tommy returned to the dresser and placed his hand out to steady himself. He licked his trembling lips as the ache moved from his chest to the very front and sides of his head. It tightened like a vise.

Fuck. I'm going to have a goddamn migraine!

Tommy carefully opened his eyes, weary of even the soft early afternoon light. The pain was tolerable for now. Glad for that, he decided to continue his investigation of the Red Ranger. Lifting his head, his gaze returned again to the picture frames. The Green Ranger selected one of the photos for closer inspection.

Jason stood with his parents, grins all around as he received one of his many awards. His father's face glowed with pride as his mom lovingly embraced her son in a tight hug. Tommy's face tilted up again to the many accomplishments displayed on the dresser and throughout the room, all the moments of glory shared with family and friends.

His face flushed with resentment and he hated the note of jealousy that caught in his throat. It burned there like a copper penny and intensified the misery that stabbed throughout his brain like shrapnel.

I fucking hate him!

Bitter tears welled and threatened. Placing the photo back in its place, he forced his self pity into steely submission. This was a fact finding mission and his goals were to investigate Jason, not wallow in his own festering issues. Soon none of that would matter anyway. He growled low in his throat and proceeded to snoop through every square inch of Jason's room, his perfectly clean, warm, and inviting room.

Tommy still found it hard and several times caught himself hissing throughout several spikes of jealous anger; the pain built steadily as he surveyed every book,ever movie, every scrap of paper. On a corner of Jason's desk, stood a small action figure of the Red Ranger himself. The Green Ranger stared at it steadily as the doll perched there in a hazy fog. Barely a muscle twitched as the high pitched whine in his ears increased.

In sudden passion, Tommy bounded across the room and snatched the hateful, mocking figure. Grabbing each articulated appendage, he swiftly broke them, snapping the joints so both arms and legs were twisted and misshapen. As a final insult, he popped the tabs on his helmet and crudely spit on the doll before tossing it into a trashcan.

Fuck you!

He stood by the side of Jason's bed, his head now a throbbing mass of agony, his vision so blurry he couldn't even make out the pattern on the comforter. This migraine was going to be a rip roaring torment of misery. He sank down onto the bed, desperate to relieve the searing pain that made it feel as if his skull were going to fly apart. He snapped his helmet back into place and curled up in a fetal position on the edge of the Red Ranger's bed, nauseous and shaking with pain. The smell of Jason lingered on his bed but Tommy was in far too much misery to be triggered. He squeezed his eyes shut and prayed he wouldn't vomit.

It felt like he just closed his eyes for a few minutes, but the next time Tommy opened them, the light was dark bluish-purple through the windows and sounds came from beyond Jason's door. The evil Ranger was startled that he'd slept so long. If Jason had caught him here, it would have been World War III. He grinned as he pictured little Red Riding Hood finding the Big Bad Wolf napping in his bed.

Pots and pans rattled. Jerking himself upright, the Green Ranger realized the pain was gone and in its place was a dizzy lightheaded glaze. He could smell a wonderful aroma from the kitchen and his stomach actually rumbled.

Spaghetti. Warm, buttery garlic bread.

His hand went to his belly as if he could silence it by force; he couldn't help but tip his head back and allow the fragrance of this meal to wash over him. He carefully peeked around the door frame and down the stairs where he could see Jason's mom setting the table for her family.

The only noodles "mom" can cook is Ramen.

Growling, he stood and made his way to the window to look outside. Jason and his dad sat side by side on the tailgate of a truck in deep conversation; the older man's arm was curled around his son's shoulder.

Resentfully, the Green Ranger flipped his middle finger up at Jason's back.

I can't wait until your perfect little world comes crashing down and you see all the pain and misery that exists outside your bubble, you fucking prick!

Suddenly turning from the window, he advanced to the trash can and reached inside. Pulling the soiled doll from the remnants of crumpled paper and debris, he threw the mangled little figure to the floor and stomped it mercilessly before viciously kicking it against a wall.

Just wait, Red Ranger. I'll be sending you to your death tomorrow. Lets see you survive Goldar with no morpher and no back up. He's going to tear you to shreds.

Still seething, Tommy teleported out.

Materializing in the backyard in his school attire, Tommy snorted in disgust. He could hear the arguing and swearing even from where he stood. His sneakers crunched on the gravel as he picked his way up to the house.

"Dammit, woman! Quit your screeching! I can't get a fucking word in edge-wise!" a deep angry voice drunkenly bellowed.

"If you don't get away from me, I'm calling the fucking cops!" a shrill voice answered.

"Call the fuckin' cops, bitch! I dare you!"

Tommy stopped in his tracks and stared at the door. From his peripheral vision, he noted curtains twitching in the neighboring house as curious spectators debated whether THEY should call the cops. His cheeks reddened in embarrassment and spread down his neck.

Trash...

A loud shriek of anger punctuated the evening stillness along with the sound of glass breaking.

Fuck this.

Grabbing his bike, he angrily sped through the alley and up the street; his legs pumped furiously as he pushed himself harder and faster. He was starving, he felt off from the migraine, and he continued to burn with shame.

I can't wait until this whole place burns.

Tommy darted through traffic ignoring honking horns for the most part; occasionally his middle finger flashed in the growing darkness. He turned sharply on a side street and almost lost control of the bike. He careened dangerously from side to side, the tires skidding over the pavement. The next thing he knew he was flat on his back looking up at the dark sky, his bike beside him; one tire was spinning.

"Hey, man! Are you ok?" a familiar voice sounded above him.

No. Fucking. Way.

Jason knelt down beside the fallen teen, his face tight with concern.

"Are you hurt?"

Tommy groaned with annoyance.

Mistaking the groan for one of pain, the dark haired boy immediately went into protective mode.

"Its going to be alright. I'll get help!" Jason frantically scanned the distance to make sure whatever the other boy was running from was not in sight.

"Jason! I'm fine," Tommy sighed. "Calm down."

Just my luck.

"Hey, Tommy, right? You're the guy I fought in the competition." Jason extended a hand to help the other teen to his feet.

Biting back the bile that rose to his throat, Tommy accepted the help up. His pants were torn and his knee was dripping blood.

"Yeah, that's me."

"You're bleeding, man." Jason pointed out.

No. Shit.

"Great, my parents are going to be pissed I tore these." He sighed. Today was not his day at all.

Jason nodded his head toward the house.

"Come on in. You can get cleaned up," he said kindly. "I was just heading in to eat dinner. You're welcome to join. My mom always makes way too much spaghetti," he smiled.

Tommy stood wordlessly staring at Jason. An awkward laugh escaped the Red Ranger's mouth.

"You don't have to. I just thought..."

"Spaghetti sounds good, Jason. I've just had a shit day," he finally answered.

Jason sighed quietly with relief.

"What were you running from? You were really flying," he asked.

Mind your own business, Red Ranger.

"Ehh, just one of those days. My parents were chewing me out on top of everything else," he trailed off as both teens walked up the driveway.

That will happen later on...

"I hear ya, man. I've a rough couple days myself; I just got through having a talk with my dad about how drugs are bad and if I'm taking drugs."

Tommy's face twitched in surprise.

"Why would he ask that? I mean, if you are, no judgment," he innocently poked. This was too funny.

Jason rubbed a hand through his hair as he stopped by the front door. The light from the window illuminated his features.

"I'm not on drugs. Just school and sports and everything," he vented. His eyes slowly gazed upward, where the moon peeked from behind the clouds.

Tommy smirked, catching where Jason was looking.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you," he soothed, all wide eyed innocence.

"I'm not offended, I'm just exhausted," Jason said softly, throwing in a soft chuckle.

The Green Ranger could see other boy's eyes were haunted and dark, his shoulders slightly slumped. No longer the big bad fearless Red Ranger stance, Tommy observed.

Tomorrow's really going to wear you out, Red. But don't worry. It will hurt for a little while then you won't have to worry about anything ever again.

The door opened suddenly and Mrs. Scott was leaning out.

"There you are, Jason! I was wondering if you were going to eat tonight."

Catching sight of the disheveled teen standing beside her son, she gasped.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know your friend was here."

"I'm Tommy Oliver," he politely introduced himself. "I'm new here. I took a spill on my bike. Jason was just helping me."

"Tommy and I met at that karate competition a few days ago," Jason added.

"Wow, you did a number on your pants. Why don't you come in and clean up? Jason, did you ask Tommy to stay for dinner?"

Jason rolled his eyes. "Of course." He smiled at Tommy.

The Green Ranger smiled his best smile in return and followed Jason's mom inside.

Tommy's eyes lit up at the mound of spaghetti dominating his plate. This was his second helping and Jason's mom found it very amusing. Her eyes danced in merriment.

"Good, huh?" she teased.

"Mmm hmmm" Tommy replied, his mouth already full of warm delicious pasta. He couldn't remember the last time anything had tasted this good. He never wanted it to end. However, he wished they'd all quit with the small talk; it was making him very uncomfortable.

He didn't want to talk about his "parents" or his extra curricular activities. And to be honest, he wasn't entirely sure how to make small talk. Meals at his house consisted of eating what one could find in one's own room. The three of them sitting at a table talking was absurd. Family get togethers was not their thing; odds were the table would end up upside down and every dish would be smashed into the ground. And the cops would be hauling them off in handcuffs.

Jason, for his part, merely picked at his food. His face rested in one hand as he half halfheartedly attempted to eat. He looked preoccupied. His father frequently glanced over at his son with concern and exchanged meaningful looks with his wife. Jason didn't appear to notice any of it.

The Green Ranger was enjoying the dramatics almost as much as the food.

Poor, distressed Red Ranger. What to do? What to do? You better hug your parents tight tonight.

Scooping up the last of the spaghetti on a slice of garlic bread, he relished his dinner and the chaos he had created. Reclining back in the chair, Tommy felt full and satiated. His eyes closed in contentment; it was nice to pretend this was his home and he was loved and wanted. He wished his "dad" was as concerned as Jason's about him avoiding drugs; hell, his old man bought him cigarettes. He probably couldn't care less what Tommy was up to. If wanted weed or dope, he'd probably do it with him. He imagined his mom cooking delicious meals like Mrs Scott, dressed beautifully without her breasts or butt on display.

"I've got tons of left overs. Please take some home with you," Mrs. Scott offered.

"I'd love to," Tommy exclaimed.

Despite appearances to the contrary, Jason had been paying attention. At least somewhat. His current predicament loomed large in his mind but there wasn't anything he could do about it tonight. He subtly observed the other teen scarfing down plate after plate of food ravenously. Jason felt bad for him; it didn't appear that Tommy got to eat as often as he did. He was curious about the boy in green.


	2. Chapter 2

Jason walked with Tommy back to his bike, laying haphazardly in the grass. The other teen slid a plastic grocery bag over his wrist; it contained a large Tupperware bowl stuffed with spaghetti. His belly full for once, he allowed himself to relax somewhat despite his hatred of his current company.

The Red Ranger was silent as Tommy knelt down and righted the bicycle. Glancing back at the house, he could make out the shadow of his mom standing at the front room window.

He ran a hand through the back of his hair and casually cleared his throat.

"You know... if you're ever in the neighborhood, we usually always eat dinner at the same time. If you'd like to come by," he gently offered.

His back to Jason, the Green Ranger's face twisted angrily. He gripped the handlebar so tightly his fingers went numb.

I don't need your pity, asshole. I'm not going to be your pet project.

Tommy woodenly nodded his head and turned to look at Jason over his shoulder.

"Thanks, man. That'd be nice." He bit back the venom he wanted to spew at the Red Ranger along with a well aimed sucker punch.

Lucky for you I still have to play nice, Red.

"Are your parents going to be cool with you being out this late?"

"Its fine."

Jason shifted uncomfortably.

"Alright, I guess I'll see you around school tomorrow? Maybe we can get together and work out?"

"Sure, Jason. That would be perfect."

Slinging a leg over the bike, the Green Ranger stared at his enemy again.

"See you tomorrow."

"See ya, Tommy."

Jason wasn't sure why but that last sentence didn't really seem friendly. He watched Tommy's form disappear off into the darkness. He was a mystery all right. His mom hadn't been able to get any useful information out of him either. The other teen was tight lipped about his parents and home life. He deftly dodged most personal questions.

Taking one last gaze up at the moon, the Red Ranger made his way back inside.

"Well, that Tommy is certainly an interesting fellow," his father commented.

Shutting the front door, Jason nodded silently.

"Look, son. I'm sorry about earlier. You've never given us reason to worry before. I am still concerned about your grades and missing curfew. I know you, Jason. I know when something's eating at you."

His dad sighed deeply.

"I wish you'd let me or your mother help you with whatever it is."

"Dad, I'm fine. Really. I'll work harder at school and getting home on time. I promise."

His mother followed a moody Jason to the doorway of his room.

"What about the blood, Jace? Or the bruises?" she asked softly. "Or the times you are limping?"

The teen turned to face his mother, stunned by her observations.

"I do your laundry, you know; blood stains clothing. And I'm not blind. You think I don't notice but I do."

Slowly, she raised a hand to cup his cheek.

"Is someone hurting you?"

"Mom! No! Seriously. Its just football and martial arts and rock climbing. Sometimes I get hurt; its never a big deal and I know how you get." Guilt caused his voice to hitch. "I'm fine. Honest."

Mrs. Scott held his gaze a moment longer before sighing and lowering her arm.

"Alright, Jason," her voice was sad. It was obvious she knew he was not being entirely truthful. "I do trust you but just promise you'll come to us if you're ever in trouble."

"I promise, mom," he whispered. He started to enter his darkened bedroom and stopped.

"Mom? I think something's not right with Tommy. I know I don't really know him but I just have this bad feeling about him."

She nodded. "I don't think Tommy has a good home life. Maybe if you guys can get to know each other, he'll open up to you. Just be there for him. I'll ask around at work; see if anyone knows his parents. We'll watch out for him, sweetie."

Jason flipped on the light and shut his bedroom door as him mother disappeared down the hall. He leaned against the hard wood, a guilty conscience already needling his stomach. He'd just flat out lied to his mom's face. But there's no way she could ever have heard the truth.

Pushing off from the door, he started to peel his shirt off over his head. Advancing further into the room, he noticed some things weren't quite right. His hackles were up; something smelled sickly sweet like rotten fruit. It was like walking through a fine mist of decay. It was nauseating.

The Red Ranger held his shirt tightly balled in his hands, mind racing, every nerve on edge. Almost panicky, he quickly flung open the closet door, absolutely sure someone would be in there waiting for him. A few shirts swayed with the sudden current of air. Nothing.

Turning, he knelt by his bed and peered underneath. Something was just not right; something was deadly. Nothing to be found there either.

Gripping the edge of the bed to stand, he immediately withdrew his hand as if he'd been shocked. His bed smelled putrid, like death. It was far worse than anything else in the room. Gagging, it seemed like it was intensifying. Eyes watering, he slammed into the door before throwing it open and stumbling to the bathroom. The Red Ranger retched and heaved and vomited mightily, his knees buckling, dropping him in front of the toilet. It was hard to catch his breath.

How in the world did he not smell this until now? It was so strong he could have smelled it from the dining room. His parents hadn't appeared to notice it; nor Tommy.

"Jason!" his mother was yelling, dropping down beside him, her arms going to comfort him.

He recoiled from her touch, shaking his head and gesturing for her to shut the door. Quickly, she closed the bathroom door; in the next instant she was pressing a cold wash cloth to his head. He groaned and rocked back and forth, quivering and shaking. Each minute felt like an eternity as his stomach churned.

Finally, his stomach felt completely empty; he was only bringing up bile now.

"Jason?" his dad's rough, worried voice sounded from the other side of the door.

"I'm...alright...just..." he trailed off. His mother's hand stroked his back.

"I...need to... sleep.. on the..." He heaved again. "Couch..."

Slowly, the nausea ebbed and Jason rested his head on his forearms, still unsure about leaving the safety of the bathroom.

"What was that...smell," he croaked.

"What smell, Jace?" His mother continued to rub his back softly.

"In my room."

"Honey, go look in Jason's room. He said there's a bad odor in there," she called through the door.

Jason heard his father's foot falls move down the hallway and held his breath nervously. After several minutes, his father's voice returned.

"There's nothing in there, Jason. Do you think maybe you're having an "episode," his voice trailed off uncertain.

"He thinks I'm on something," Jason's voice trembled, brokenly. "I really did smell something awful and it made me sick."

His mom sat silent.

"Jason." His father's voice again. "Do we need to go out to the hospital?"

"NO!" Still unsteady, he pulled himself to his feet. He opened the door forcefully. The odor was gone but his dad still stood like a statue blocking his path.

"Do you want me to take a test? I will," Jason wiped his the back of his hand across his mouth. His dark eyes flashed with hurt and anger.

"Maybe its food poisoning?" his mom ventured quietly.

"We all ate the same thing."

Sweat stood out on Jason's forehead and his legs still felt like jello; ducking under his dad's arm, he stalked into the living room and scooped up his jacket.

"Jason Lee Scott! What do you think you're doing?" His dad was hot on his heels.

"I need some air. Just get off my back already!" The slam of the door reverberated in the night's stillness.

"He's grounded. That's it. I don't know what's gotten into him and I don't care. Jason's NEVER acted this way before!" Mr. Scott paced the front foyer.

The petite woman stood quietly, eyes tearful but her expression calm.

"He'll come back," she nodded solemnly. "He'll come back and we'll sort this whole thing out."


	3. Chapter 3

In a another house, on a different street, Tommy stood sullenly while he took several sharp pokes to the chest from his drunken, wild-eyed "father." His expression was cold and icy as he watched the older man rant and rave about the shirking of his responsibilities. Sweat beaded the man's forehead and dampened his already greasy hair; spit sprayed as he screamed and berated the teen.

The kitchen where the Green Ranger stood could have been mistaken for a war zone. Jagged white porcelain decorated the linoleum, a lone chair rested on its side with all but one leg missing. Walls which had at one time been a cheery yellow were splattered with unidentifiable muck and pocketed with deep gouges. How the cops hadn't ended up over here, he wasn't sure.

The smell of alcohol burned his nostrils; it wafted from the several empty bottles by the back door and blasted him full on when the drunk's breath smacked him in the face. It took every ounce of self control he possessed to not head butt the son of a bitch.

"You think you can run the streets like a little hood when there's shit that needs doing here! Look at this place!" His bare hairy foot kicked at the bursting black trash bag on the floor; the contents exploded up into the air and rained back down onto the plastic. Not getting the respectful response he expected from Tommy, the man's eye's narrowed and he huffed, trying to stare punk down.

The Green Ranger merely glowered at the brute, arms crossed over his chest and lip curling slightly like a snarling dog. His expression was clearly a challenge in the drunk's eyes. Aggressively, he shoved the boy into the wall behind him.

"So, you're tough shit now, huh?" he taunted.

Still, Tommy remained silent. His "father" stormed over to one of the upright chairs where his trusty black leather work belt was draped. Snatching it, he doubled it over for maximum impact.

"Alright you little smart ass! Obviously you're too stupid to understand the hierarchy in this hovel!"

He menacingly advanced on the teen, arm poised to strike.

The Green Ranger chuckled.

"Go on, old man and do it. I can promise you'll regret it."

Briefly, his dad's blood shot eyes widened before the belt hissed through the air and caught Tommy across the chest. He pulled back and swung again; the teen's face rocked to the right and his lip split. Blow after blow sunk its teeth into the boy as he stood still, not even moving to defend himself.

The man panted with exertion as he wildly punished his willful, cocky son. In his stupor, it didn't even register that Tommy never cried out, never begged him to stop, or even raised his arms to shield his head and face. His frame only shook slightly, his face averted.

Arms starting to ache, his dad gradually lowered the belt to his side and peered at the teen to see if this time the lesson took. He was stunned to discover that Tommy was actually laughing. Dark, flashing eyes slowly raised to rest on his father's bewildered face.

"Thank you, sir. May I have another?" he mocked, grinning as he felt the first tingles of his Ranger healing course through his veins.

Lips pulled tightly against his teeth, he drew back with the belt, prepared to grant Tommy's request. However, before the belt could land, the teen's hand shot forward and seized it; giving a sharp yank, he ripped it from his father's grasp. Charging the old man like a bull, he thrust the belt in front of his face.

"Never again, you filthy sack of shit!"

Tommy turned to the refrigerator and removed a large glistening bottle of Smirnoff. Looking pointedly at the older man, he silently dared him to stop him.

"That's what I thought," Green Ranger hissed.

He bounded up the creaky stairs to his room; once inside he slammed the door and flipped on his stereo. Soon heavy metal reverberated throughout the house. Opening the Vodka, Tommy reclined on his bed, the bare, lumpy mattress a sharp contrast to the Red Ranger's.

Taking out the golden coin, he took in its beauty, its power. The intricately etched Dragon emblem called to his very soul. It was the only reason he was still alive. If not for his Empress, well... Tommy couldn't see any point to his tortured existence.

He'd toyed with razor blades before. Considered the gun he knew the old man kept in the closet. Plus, there was always a strong rope and somewhere to hang it. Tommy's life had pretty well been hell; why continue? What was one life out of billions?

Empress Rita was his salvation. If not for serving her, his life would have no purpose. Soon she would rule the world; he would be her prize warrior. And when it came time to decide the fate of the people of Earth, he thought he might very well enjoy being her chief executioner as well. That fat, worthless fuck downstairs would be the first. Followed of course by the shallow, man eating hussy he called a wife.

That bitch was a conniving old whore who liked to jump into his bed when her husband was too drunk to perform. She introduced him to the pleasures of the flesh; if he closed his eyes, he could imagine any partner he desired. Afterward, he felt pure disgust and no amount of hot water washed away her vile odor.

The alcohol burned his throat and made his eyes water; the slow build of vengeance in his heart continued to grow. As Rita's champion, he deserved far better than this trash hole and these two moles. He might have to play nice with the Rangers, but nothing was said about his conduct with anyone else. Enough was enough. The Green Ranger clenched the coin tightly in his fist and rose from the bed.

The old man stumbled down the back steps into the darkened yard, dragging the black trash bag behind him. He almost lost he footing several times on the rickety back steps; his slippers covered the wrong feet and tripped him up. His cigarette dangled like a limp weed from the corner of his mouth.

"This is bullshit," he growled to himself.

As many times as he'd taken a belt to Tommy, he was stunned by the teen's defiance of the rules of the castle. HIS castle. He was master, king, and almighty God of this kingdom, busting his hump day in and day out to provide the luxuries his ungrateful wife and son enjoyed. Well, that shit was coming to an end because he was putting his damn foot down; you could take that to the bank. As far as he was concerned the bad ass could pack up his crap and hit the bricks.

He could just make out a path from the light cast by the back door. The further into the shadows he ambled, the harder it became to see. Panting with exertion, he managed to haul the bag to the cans by the shed. He didn't even notice the whisper of green and white boots through the brambly grass until the muscular assailant was upon him.

A painful jerk to his neck nearly lifted him off his feet as his breathing suddenly became impossible. Desperately, he tried to yell to his wife and son in the house; only a high pitched mousy squeak passed his lips. The Green Ranger pulled tightly on the old leather belt, wrapping it twice around his gloved hand. Yanking harder, he dropped the old man to the ground and with vicious animal-like snarls, he proceed to beat and pummel his victim. Blood splattered ruby red drops up the evil Ranger' arms, coating his white gloves, his forearms, shield, and visor. The man's face was purplish-red as the psychotic Ranger cruelly dragged him through the yard like a dog, blows still raining down.

The snarls turned to giggles as Tommy watched his "father" claw helplessly at the belt, twisting and writhing like a worm on hot concrete. One house shoe flipped through the air and disappeared as he struggled. A dampness blossomed in the crotch of his old blue sweatpants. Hazy eyes were filled with mindless terror at the sight of this unearthly attacker; the black visor served to reflect back his own tortured image.

Reaching the back steps, Tommy finally released the belt allowing the terrorized man to breath. He then viciously kicked out with his boot, catching his dad under the chin. Knocked out cold, he now lay in a bloody heap by the steps, the victim of an unknown attacker. Spinning on his heel, Tommy scooped up his partially full bottle of Vodka and teleported out, a satisfied smile gracing his lips.

The park was deserted this time of night as Jason approached. Cool air caressed his face and gently lifted his damp hair. It felt so good to be alone with his thoughts despite the blow out he knew he'd have to answer for eventually. He forced out a heavy breath.

Stress was definitely getting to him. The Red Ranger's back and neck chronically ached and not just from battle mishaps. Especially now with Zordon missing and the Command Center trashed; the Green Ranger showing up added even more tension. Absently, he rubbed a hand over his chest where the jerk had thrown a Power Blaster blade at him.

Hating the memory, the teen shook his head and fought the feeling of embarrassment creeping over him.

I should have been able to handle him. I'm the leader.

Instead he'd gotten his ass handed to him. It smarted. He wasn't used to being outclassed as a Ranger. His pride was bruised as much as his physical body.

Fortunately, Billy was making progress on the Command Center. Alpha 5 was functioning albeit with some kinks to fix. Soon the computer would be up and running and they could start looking for Zordon. Time just wasn't on their side.

Jason's mind was a mosaic of one worry after another. His feet wondered of their own accord, following the cement pathways through the park. Deep in thought, the whistling didn't immediately catch his attention. Startled, his eyes scanned his surroundings; dark pockets of night inhabited the spaces between the light posts. The sound of water reached him and he knew the lake was nearby.

Stealthily following the whistling, something in his gut warned him to use caution.

Cresting a slight hill, the Red Ranger came upon a row of picnic tables by the water's edge. He could just make out a figure laying atop the one of the tables. Squinting, he tip toed closer.

Holy shit!

To his absolute horror, Jason realized it was the Green Ranger. Ducking behind a tree, he peeked around the trunk to observe the demented Ranger.

Laying on his back, the Green Ranger stared up at the starry sky. They sparkled like errant diamond dust on velvet. It was breathtaking. The moon was pale silver and so large he imagined he could pluck it from the heavens. He raised a hand to encircle the sphere between his fingertips.

He laughed and continued to whistle, as he imagined handing the Earth over to his Empress in the palm of his hand. The thought was amusing. Smirnoff apparently made everything gleeful.

The bottle sat by his hip mostly empty by this point. Tommy knew from experience he was going to be sick as a dog and the next morning would find him laying in the toilet. Nothing was planned until the afternoon as far as Empress was concerned.

As long as he dried out by then...

"What are you doing down here?" an authoritative voice demanded.

Oh, goddammit!

This has to be a cosmic joke. Tommy ran a hand over the front of his helmet. Why did he keep running into this son of a bitch. Did he have a fucking sixth sense?

Sitting up, he spun around to face the Red Ranger; his enemy stood with his hands on his hips, still as arrogant as before.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I forget to give you my permission slip, Red Ranger? Here it is!"

The bottle was spinning end over end and missed the other boy by inches; it shattered loudly, spraying glass and alcohol across the ground. A good portion of liquid splashed Jason's calf as he attempted to dodge.

Tommy laughed like a hyena, pointing at Jason, as he wiped at his leg. Looking back angrily, the Red Ranger caught sight of the red decorating the green uniform. Heart sinking, he tried to keep his voice strong.

"What did you do?"

The Green Ranger held up his hands, turning them to and fro as if he had forgotten. He growled menacingly.

"Nothing that concerns you, you pompous jack ass."

Leaping from the table, he wobbled slightly as he landed closer to Jason.

"Who did you hurt? Where are they?"

"Relax, Red. They'll live if that's what you're worried about. There are things worse than death but you'll get to experience that in due time." He lowered his head as he advanced.

"Think you're in any condition to fight me right now, Green?" Jason retorted, as he dropped into a fighting stance.

Truth be told, he wasn't sure he was up to it either after the vomiting debacle. The fact that the Green Ranger was strolling through Angel Grove park drunk out his mind troubled him. What if another person came upon this unstable Ranger? He'd obviously already done something reprehensible.

Jason held up a gloved hand.

"Look, I think we both don't need to be doing this right now. Talk to me. Tell me why you're working for Rita."

"Fuck you, Red Ranger!" Tommy darted forward and attempted to tackle Jason to the ground. It didn't go as planned; he was too unsteady. The red clad teen easily slipped his hold and delivered a kick to his attacker's back. The Green Ranger sprawled on the ground; using this advantage, Jason pinning him in place.

"Like I said, you aren't in any condition to do this. You will get hurt."

Rage boiled over and in a burst of energy, he knocked the Red Ranger off.

"All you Rangers want to do is talk. Alright. Fine."

Both Rangers regained their feet and circled one another.

"Rita is my Empress, my life. She commands and I obey. What don't you understand?"

"Look, there's something wrong with you. Let us help you. Come on, this can't be what you want!"

Tommy stopped moving and lowered his head, as if in thought. He swayed slightly from side to side. A soft sniff reached Jason.

"You're right," he cried. "I don't want to do this but I can't stop. I do need your help." Slowly, he extended a hand towards the Red Ranger. "Please. Help me." The Green Ranger sobbed.

Carefully, Jason moved toward the shivering teen in concern. He reached out to take the offered hand. Quick as a snake, the evil Ranger grabbed Jason's wrist in a vise like grip. Sudden bright pain flared as Tommy evilly sliced Jason's gloved palm with a piece of broken glass he'd had hidden in his other hand.

Jason cried out as bright red blood gushed from the wound. Dimly, he became aware of the Green Ranger pulling him even closer and the bloodied glass was coming at him again. Reflexively, Jason kicked the other boy in stomach, causing him to lose his grip.

The Red Ranger moaned and protectively guarded his injured arm as he backed away quickly.

Tommy laughed.

"You dummy. I can't believe you fell for that. You sure you're not drunk too?"

His voice changed to one of ominous warning.

"Red Ranger, I've spent an entire afternoon imagining all the ways you could die. Stabbing you, shooting you, drowning you. Snapping your neck. I'll never be this vulnerable again. You wasted your chance to stop me because you wanted to be my savior. When your friends are destroyed, remember this moment."

With that, the Green Ranger teleported to Rita's moon palace, leaving an enraged and shaking Jason to fully embrace the enormity of his failure.


End file.
